I need to get something off my chest. I’m not proud of it, but it’s the truth. This whole backpacking around Europe thing is exhausting. I had an epiphany during last week’s trip in Amsterdam: I’m just not built for this. Don’t get me wrong, I love to travel but everyone’s got their limits. While in the process of confronting the reality of things, I’m also finding the positive in them. For instance, I’ve been feeling warn out from sleeping in a different bed every weekend, carrying hefty travel bags, and waking up before the suns out to get to the ever so menacing airport. I miss the security of my little Prague, I miss having dinner with friends, and I miss writing without feeling rushed due to a flight delay. I’ve been doing this for four weeks straight and I’ve still got three more trips to go. Instead of wallowing in my own self pity, I’m taking this as a life lesson. It’s clear to me now that I have certain limits and I shouldn’t push them for the sake of an adventure. From now on I’ll confidently choose what paths to take in life because I now recognize the person I am. That being said, I still had a phenomenal time in Berlin this past weekend!

This trip was just what I needed after my long weekend in Amsterdam. As I said, I missed spending time with my friends so this time around I traveled with my favorite girls. A good old fashioned girls trip! There’s just something about having your girlfriends around that makes you feel connected, safe and understood. Best of all, I’ve got some hilarious friends. I’m talking laugh until your ribs hurt, tears fall, and breath is nowhere to be found kind of funny. All we did was laugh this weekend. Well that and see stunning sights, dance ’til morning, and eat like royalty. Laugh, sightsee, dance, eat and repeat.

When we first got to Berlin, it was just me and Claudia. The rest of our girls took a later bus so we decided to hang tight at a kebab restaurant/hookah bar. A few too many beers later and some tokes from a hookah, we were ready to party. Except, it was only 8:00 PM and we hadn’t even settled into our hostel yet. So, here we are walking around Berlin for what felt like hours lugging around our heavy bags while slightly incoherent. After a couple, sobering train rides later we finally made it…to the wrong hostel. As I’m writing this now, I can’t help but crack up at our poor decision making. Such amateurs. At least it makes for a good story, right? Sure, let’s stick with that. Anyway, after a grueling 25 minute walk to the correct hostel we lay comfortably in our bunk beds for all of, what was it? Five minutes? In comes the rest of the crew, Raquel, Kate, Jackie, and Zena ready for dinner. Similarly to Amsterdam, Berlin was a city of international foods and people alike. We headed out to get Italian, something we’re always craving. Our pleasant stroll through the neighborhood and our pizza and pasta platters lead to a good night’s sleep.

When we woke up the next morning we were still giggling from whatever goofy incident that happened the night before. I can’t remember if it was the shadow in the alley that scared us silly, which turned out to be just a shovel that had us laughing or if it was someone-who-I-won’t-name’s snoring. Whatever it was, it had us giggling like piglets. As we stuck our heads out from the curtains that covered our individual bunks, it felt like the summer camp experience I’d never had. I’ve stayed at a hostel before, but that was nothing like this. This six-bunkbed room was secluded only to me and my troublemakers so we settled, spoke and snored as freely as we wanted.

It was bright and early when we left the hostel because we didn’t want to waste a minute. We took advantage of a free walking tour and met our tour guide, Leo. Leo was originally from London, England but was living in Berlin for a few years now. He was highly educated on Berlin’s rich history, well-spoken and charming as ever. He made us comfortable despite the emotional memorials we encountered. Firstly, we visited the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, or the Holocaust Memorial. The memorial was created by American architect, Peter Eisenman. It consists of 2,711 concrete blocks standing alongside each other at uneven heights. We were told that Eisenman intentionally made the memorial abstract and undefined. There is no correct interpretation of the blocks as they are meant to spark confusion and unease. With the help of Leo’s sympathetic spirit, we were able to admire what the memorial honored without feeling so heavy hearted.

We continued on to more spaces dedicated to the tragedies of World War II, such as the memorial at Bebelplatz. Bebelplatz sits at the center of the city and is encircled by a beautifully deigned opera house, university, and cathedral. In this lovely public square, a window resides inside the cobblestone to expose empty, underground bookshelves. The bookshelves, created by Israeli artist Micha Ullman, are able to carry 20,000 books. This is the same amount of books that were burned in an intolerant rage by fascist groups on May 10th, 1933. It warmed my heart to learn that every year the students at the neighboring university hold a book sale to commemorate the authors whose books were destroyed. Overall, Berlin was excelling in honoring victims of the past while condemning those who deserved it most. Take Hitler’s bunker, for example. It was nowhere to be found or memorialized since a parking lot was constructed on top of it. Kudos to Berlin for placing absolutely no emphasis on the despicable dictators whereabouts.

Bebelplatz was last on the list for Leo, so the girls and I headed to the Alte Nationalgalerie. This was part of the Berlin National Gallery and it showcased some of the countries finest art pieces. Walking through elaborately decorated halls, we gazed in wonderment at the creativity from the 19th century. The setting was posh, yet we couldn’t help but mimic poses of muses, search for our Neoclassical doppelgängers, or make up silly scenarios to explain abstract scenes. The security guards became our best friends, never leaving our sides in an attempt to subdue our goofy behavior. As much as we appreciated the art, it had been a long day so we had to keep ourselves energized somehow. Even if it meant setting off an alarm or two for the sake of a laugh. When we finally finished our loop around the gallery, we were beat. We went to the hostel, napped and enjoyed a pub crawl with fellow foreigners. A long touristy day ending with an even longer night hopping from bar to bar. That’s the European way.

Seeing as he was such a charmer, Leo convinced us to take another one of his tours around Berlin. We joined him on his alternative art tour the next day where we visited the East Side Gallery, or the eastern end of the Berlin Wall. The wall was divided into vibrant, multicolored murals stretching for miles. Leo taught us about the history of the Berlin Wall, its significance and how its maintained today. The “alternative” part of the tour, however, was the street art in a hidden alley way that lead us to Berlin’s Kino Central. The alley walls were covered in activist slogans, abstract illustrations and overall expressionism art. Every inch of the walls were covered in colorful images produced by spray paint bottles or paint brushes. It felt like the MoMA took a flight to Germany and threw up all over this tiny corner of Berlin. Leo gave us about 20 minutes to get some great content for Instagram, making our media-obsessed hearts sing with joy.

We ended the tour at YAAM, the Young African Art Market. An oasis for refugees and a cultural home to African and Caribbean immigrants. YAAM is constantly winning Berlin’s battle against gentrification as it appeals to those looking for an alternative route in what is slowly becoming a cookie-cutter society. More importantly, it gives a minority group a space to come together and express their creative impulses. When you first walk in, the area is set up with bars and a food court offering cuisines from different Caribbean islands and African countries. As you walk further down you’re encountered with The Spree River where you’re welcomed to lounge. It’s the middle of Autumn, so we weren’t fortunate enough to see YAAM at it’s full potential. We were told it’s essentially a riverside beach club with artistic installments, parties, and performances that go on all summer. Despite the weather, we still appreciated the change of pace with reggae music playing from different ends, putting us at ease. The welcoming atmosphere at YAAM gave us the chance to relax, enjoy Jamaican curry goat, and admire more unique street art.

Another successful day of touring led to a well-deserved, high-in-calories dinner. As always, we were craving Italian and found ourselves in a sweet, hole-in-the-wall restaurant. The food was good, but our waiter was even better. Antonio, or Tony, born and raised in Italy and probably older than all of our dads combined, gave us quite the laugh. He complimented us at every possible moment and even gave us free tap water! Something extremely rare on this continent. “Just for mi bellezze!”, he’d say. We chatted in Spanish and he tried teaching us some Italian. We were his molte belle principesse, and he was our flirty, borderline creepy, Italian stallion. When we were done he surprised us with a bottle of Limoncello, insisting we take a shot before we left. After our cheers, he gave each one of us a hug and kiss on the cheek, wishing us luck and asking that we stay forever beautiful.